


The Presence of Light

by KCKenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars: Wild Space - Karen Miller
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Crying, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Nightmares, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Sad Obi-Wan Kenobi, Wild Space (Star Wars), Zigoola
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KCKenobi/pseuds/KCKenobi
Summary: After a mission to a Sith planet messes with his mind, Obi-Wan is plagued by nightmares. He can't let anyone see how the darkness is smothering him - that is, until Anakin catches him mid-breakdown.As Obi-Wan finally unravels, Anakin reminds him that it isn't the temptation to darkness that matters. It's the decision to cling to the light.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 30
Kudos: 463





	The Presence of Light

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during the Clone Wars, a few weeks after the events of Wild Space by Karen Miller (which, by the way, is SO GOOD, especially if you love a good Obi-Wan angst/whump lol).

_Die Jedi, die Jedi, die Jedi, die._

As the voice raged, images danced through his consciousness like marionettes – Qui-Gon, doubling over at the waist while Maul just laughed. Tayvor’s face as the flames swallowed him, melting the skin like candlewax. Firebeetles on Tanaab. Anakin’s wretched scream, and the deaths of so many Jedi that had been his fault, his fault, his fault…

_Die Jedi, die Jedi, die Jedi –_

Obi-Wan jerked awake.

For a moment, he found himself searching for Bail Organa’s face, half expecting to sit up on the ground of Zigoola’s withering jungle.

But no. He wiped a hand across his sweat-soaked forehead, sucking in a trembling breath. No, this was his bed. He was home, in his apartment in the Jedi Temple. Anakin was in the next room, asleep. He was safe – at least for now.

His body didn’t seem to believe that, though, as his heart continued to pound. He tried to release the anxiety into the Force, but it wouldn’t fade. _Blast._ Here he thought he’d left this nightmare out in Wild Space, yet the dark side had followed.

He sank back down into the sheets. For a moment, he let himself beg the Force to grant him a deep and – _please, oh please –_ dreamless sleep until morning.

But it had been weeks now, and he knew it was no use. He could either stare at the ceiling until sunrise, or surrender to the nightmares.

Naturally, he chose the former.

Obi-Wan pushed back the covers with shaking hands. Bare feet padding across the floor – silently, so as not to wake Anakin – he headed to the kitchen. A cup of tea should calm his nerves. That, and some light meditation. Maybe a good book to keep him occupied until sunrise…

“Good morning, Master.”

Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks.

“Earl gray, or chamomile?” Anakin pulled the kettle off the stovetop, his back turned to a startled Obi-Wan. He let the hot water steam for a moment before pouring it into the first of two mugs on the counter. “I’m having chamomile, myself – no caffeine. It keeps me awake.”

“Anakin? It’s four in the morning,” Obi-Wan said, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. “What are you doing?”

“Are you sleepwalking? Clearly, I’m making you tea.”

“I mean, what are you doing awake?” Obi-Wan said.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I, well, I….You know I…” Sounds stumbled out of his mouth – some of them words, none of them coherent. _Good gracious. Get a hold of yourself._ He cleared his throat again. “Earl gray is fine.”

Suddenly aware that he was standing there in the doorway, gawking, Obi-Wan made his way over to the couch and sank into the cushions. The voice of the Sith still echoed in his ears. Even seeing Anakin now, he couldn’t help but hear that scream, see the stub where his arm used to be…

_Die Jedi, die Jedi…_

Anakin shuffled over to join him, mugs in hand. Obi-Wan made sure to steady the tremble in his hands as he took his. He brought it immediately to his lips, even knowing it would burn. He closed his eyes as the scorching liquid trickled down, down, down. Through his throat, into his chest, and settling in his stomach. Burning there like a fire in his middle.

_Like the fire engulfed Tayvor, and he couldn’t even scream…_

“Obi-Wan.”

“Hmm?”

He pulled the mug away from his face. Anakin eyed him suspiciously.

“What’s going on?”

The question settled on Obi-Wan like a dust cloud. He let it hang in the air.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but part of him actually wanted to answer. Part of him wanted to unload the details of Zigoola, of his nightmares, so at least he didn’t have the carry the weight alone. But that was foolhardy. Any feelings he had on the matter, he would release into the Force. As he should have already.

And besides, if Anakin even suspected he wasn’t alright, it would just cause them both trouble. As much as Obi-Wan had tried to teach the boy to mind his feelings, lest they rule him…

“I don’t know what you mean,” he finally replied. “But come, now. Something’s bothering you. Why are you awake at this hour?”

“I’m awake because _you’re_ bothering me.”

“Goodness, what have I done this time?” he mused.

“No, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, shutting down his former master’s attempt at levity. “I mean it’s bothering me that you’re not okay.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m – “

“You haven’t slept through the night since you got home from Zigoola. It’s been weeks. You’re exhausted. And hurting. Every night…I feel it through the walls. And I know you’re not like me, you need space, and time, and I tried to give you that, but… I don’t even know what really happened.”

“You do know what happened. Anakin, you read my report to the council. Bail got intel of a Sith attack and coordinates for Zigoola. We went to investigate it. It was a trap, so we blew up a Sith temple and came home. That’s all.”

“That’s _not_ all.”

“Yes, it is. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not relive it.”

“I get the feeling you already do,” Anakin said softly. “Night after night.”

Obi-Wan busied himself twirling the teabag around, watching it bob up and down in waves of Earl Gray. The voice of the Sith in his mind was fainter now. But another voice was taking its place – Anakin, newly ten years old. The memory was fuzzy. But Obi-Wan could still see the kindness in the boy’s face as he tiptoed into Obi-Wan’s bedroom, could hear the gentleness as he whispered through the darkness:

_“I know you miss Qui-Gon. But you don’t have to be sad alone. We can be sad together.”_

Obi-Wan felt a surge of affection. Even then, Anakin had been so attuned to him. And it served them well, especially in battle. Reading each other that way could be the difference between life and death.

But there were some things Obi-Wan wished Anakin couldn’t see.

“The point is, Obi-Wan, you’re – “

“I’m fine, is what I am. Now, I’m sorry I woke you up. But I assure you, whatever you’re ‘feeling through the walls’ is your own imagination. I’m awake because I’m simply not tired, and that’s the end of it.”

The moment he said the words, Obi-Wan felt a yawn building in his throat. He swallowed it, pulling the tea to his mouth instead. He felt Anakin staring at him, emotions bubbling behind the mask of his straight face. Like he was deciding whether or not to say something.

Whatever it was, Obi-Wan hoped he didn’t.

Anakin tore his eyes away from his former master and brought his own tea to his lips, stopping himself from blurting out the words. He had to be careful here. Obi-Wan would be furious if he knew he’d talked to Master Yoda about him. But maybe if he saw this wasn’t just Anakin’s stubborn curiosity…

“You know, I’m not the only one worried about you.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Obi-Wan stiffen. “Master Yoda doesn’t seem to think–"

“And why have I been a topic of conversation with Master Yoda?’

 _Kriff. I knew it_. “You know Yoda. I didn’t have to say it outright – he knew I was worried about you the second I entered the room.”

“Well, stop worrying. It serves no purpose. It’s another word for fear.”

“Then, if I’m not mistaken, Master Yoda fears for you, too.”

“Master Yoda is wise enough not to let fear cloud his vision,” he said, though his voice was unsteady now. Confusion, alarm, and dismay flickered through his eyes. “As you should, my young padawan.”

“I’m not your padawan anymore.”

“Even so,” he said, “There are things you’ve yet to learn.”

He paused as darkness flooded the Force around him. A tiny crack in the armor, if only for a moment.

“And there are things I hope you never have to.”

Obi-Wan abruptly stood, moving to the sink to discard his empty mug. Alone on the couch, Anakin exhaled. Obi-Wan had to be ready to crack – the man was practically oozing anguish into the Force. But this was going nowhere. His emotions were pent up in a dam so strong, even Anakin couldn’t knock it down.

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me details. As much as I might want them,” he said slowly. “But Master Yoda just confirmed what I already figured – you don’t seem like you’re fully recovered from what happened there.”

“Maybe I’m not, but – ”

Obi-Wan’s voice broke.

And then, so did the dam.

He had intended the words to come out sharp, to shut down Anakin’s inquiry once and for all. Instead, he found himself practically choking with the effort of holding back tears.

No, this wasn’t happening. He was fine. He was fine. What had he been taught since infancy? _There is no emotion. There is peace._

The voice insisted: _Die Jedi, die Jedi, die Jedi_ –

No. _There is no chaos. There is harmony._

But there was Qui-Gon again. A blur of movement, then suddenly deathly still. The hollow eyes and the shuddering breaths and the quiet whisper – _Obi-Wan. Promise me…_ And he _had_ promised but he had failed, he had let Anakin get hurt and let so many other Jedi die for him, and for what? For what, but to have the Sith smother him in darkness? _I have failed you, Qui-Gon. I have failed them all, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry._

_There is no death –_

And then suddenly he couldn’t swallow the tears, and Anakin was at his side, putting a hand on his arm, saying something Obi-Wan couldn’t hear or didn’t want to hear or maybe was imagining altogether. He was leaning forward, clutching the counter with hands so tight the whole kitchenette practically shook, and the sight of his mug in the sink blurred before his eyes.

He barely even registered Anakin leading him, but he found himself sinking into the couch. He folded forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands, as if he could pull the memories from it. As if he could rid himself of Tayvor’s charred skin and Maul’s bloodshot eyes and Anakin’s scream…

“Hey,” Anakin was saying gently. He had a hand on Obi-Wan’s back, rubbing circles with his thumb. “Hey. I’m right here. Just breathe. Let it out.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan choked out. “I’m fine, I just…”

He tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs didn’t want to work properly. He shuddered.

“I just feel the dark side everywhere.”

Anakin’s jaw slackened. Obi-Wan was always surrounded in the light side of the Force. It practically clung to him. Everyone could see it. Maybe Anakin was the Chosen One, but his former master was the real paragon of light.

“They were messing with my mind. Making me see things. _Do_ things. I…I nearly killed Bail. And myself. And I couldn’t even…I couldn’t…”

And before he could stop himself, he was telling Anakin everything. The dreams. The jungle. Crashing the ship. Bail’s attempts to keep him from losing to the Sith, from dooming both of them. How he couldn’t even shelter them from the rain. How he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t keep down food, couldn’t close his eyes without seeing Qui-Gon or Tayvor or Geonosis and hearing that voice, that awful voice…

“When I sleep, it’s like I’m back there. I see them all, I hear the Sith in my ears. And…well, I’d rather be drinking tea in the middle of the night than go through it again.”

Obi-Wan sat up, letting his head fall back across the top of the couch. As he squeezed his eyes shut, Anakin studied him. The dark circles, the sunken cheek bones, the pallor of his skin. Exhaustion and despondency colored every inch of his body. He looked so much older, yet at the same time, so young. Too young, to suffer this way.

“Have you told the healers? Isn’t there something they can give you?”

“They sedated me in the Halls of Healing. That fought off the dreams while they worked, stopped me from thrashing around until Master Che finished stitching me up. But I can’t very well spend the rest of my life unconscious.” Obi-Wan ran a trembling hand through his hair. It flopped over his eyes. “As much as I might like to.”

Anakin nodded, feeling sick with empathy. He knew what it was like, being a victim of nightmares. Healing would come. _Dreams pass with time._ But even so, the scars remain.

“It will pass, I know,” Obi-Wan said, as though reading Anakin’s thoughts. “The events from the visions…they – well, most of them – they happened a long time ago. Old wounds. They’ll heal. You needn’t worry about me.”

Anakin almost retorted that of course he was going to worry about him, it was practically his hobby. But something in his tone made him pause.

“That’s not all though, is it?” Anakin searched his expression. “There’s something deeper.”

“Anakin…”

Obi-Wan started to protest – Anakin could see him getting ready to fight again. But all at once the resistance faded, the fight in his eyes flickering out like a candle. What remained was something weary, and disconsolate, and vulnerable.

The dam was long broken. The mask was gone.

“The light side of the Force…I was totally cut off from it. I thought I’d never feel it again.” He took a shuddering breath. “And even now, it’s different. _I’m_ different. And…I’m scared.”

Anakin could sense that. He’d sensed it from the moment Obi-Wan had come back from Zigoola. But he’d never asked why. He didn’t know what the answer would be, and he’d almost not even wanted to. But now, the words tumbled out:

“Scared of what?”

And Obi-Wan started to cry again.

“The darkness.” He thumbed tears from his cheeks. “Not just around me, but…in me. I’m afraid I’ll give in to it. Let the dark side consume me.”

Anakin knew Obi-Wan frowned on physical affection, but he couldn’t help it – he slipped an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. And to his surprise, Obi-Wan melted into it. His whole body shook, his shoulders rising and falling with ragged breaths, as he sank against Anakin’s side. Anakin felt helpless. There was nothing he could do. Nothing, except hold him.

“I know what it’s like to feel the pull of the darkness,” Anakin started to say.

And then he stopped, choking on the words. Could he admit this to his former master? To the paragon of a Jedi, always keeping his emotions in check, always steady and wise and turning to the light?

He glanced down to his shoulder, where Obi-Wan was sniffling and trying desperately to quell the tears.

And he decided that perhaps the paragon of a Jedi wasn’t just wisdom or a talent for negotiating. It was this, too. Being tortured by memories every night, but still having the strength to get up the next morning and go on. Being so battered and bruised that you break down at four in the morning, yet fighting against the darkness with everything you have. That was being a Jedi, too.

And so he told the truth.

“I know darkness. I know the fear, and the doubt. The despair, sometimes. But without them, I wouldn’t know courage. I wouldn’t know faith, or hope.” Anakin said. “And Obi-Wan, you know those things better than I do. Better than anyone does. You are brave, and trusting, and confident, and wise. You’re steadfast in your convictions, generous in kindness, abundant in humility. You are all of these things, in spite of the darkness.

“Now, I don’t know what will happen to us in this war. I don’t even know what will happen to us tomorrow. I don’t know what our future will bring, or what our destinies might be, or if we even have them. But I do know one thing with absolute certainty – the darkness will never consume you,” Anakin said. “Because, Obi-Wan Kenobi, _you are the light_.” 

Obi-Wan was silent at first, and the room was filled only with the sound of their breathing.

“If I’m the light,” he said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper, “It’s only because I’ve been shown it. I’m like a moon – I reflect the light I’m given. Nothing more.”

Anakin wanted to protest – the moon? No, Obi-Wan was the sun. He was every star in the galaxy, rolled into one.

But instead, he simply shrugged.

“Maybe,” Anakin replied. “But to reflect the light, first you have to find it. To see it, even when you’re surrounded by darkness. Maybe that’s all you can do. It’s all any of us can do.”

Traces of fear lingered in Obi-Wan’s watery eyes. But then he sucked in a shaky breath and released it, and with it, maybe, his despair.

“How did you get so wise?” he said.

Anakin grinned. “I had a good master.”

“Really? I heard he was kind of a schmuck.”

“Oh, he totally was.” He felt Obi-Wan’s shoulders twitch with laughter.

As laughter faded to companionable silence, and silence faded to peace, Anakin suddenly realized he’d never actually said the words out loud before. And before he could stop himself, they were sliding off his lips:

“But I love him for it.”

He expected Obi-Wan to brush it off, or chide him for having attachments. Or maybe, if he was really as tired as he looked, he might even say it back.

But Obi-Wan didn’t do any of those things. He couldn’t.

Because, Anakin realized, Obi-Wan had fallen asleep.

He chuckled softly. Still snug at his side, Obi-Wan was dead to the world. His mouth had fallen open in a silent snore. Asleep, he looked so much younger. So at peace. _Finally,_ Anakin thought. And without the nightmares to plague him, maybe he could stay that way.

Anakin shifted the arm around his back so that Obi-Wan’s head rolled sideways, coming to rest on Anakin’s shoulder. A tuft of auburn hair tickled his face.

With a flick of his hand, thankful his former master was oblivious to his careless use of the Force, he brought a blanket to cover them. Obi-Wan stirred, then sunk even closer against Anakin’s chest.

“Goodnight,” Anakin whispered.

And as sleep claimed them both, something else took over them. They were wrapped in the Force, shrouded in peace.

Enveloped in the presence of light.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Update: I'm on tumblr now! Come say hello! [ KCKenobi ](https://kckenobi.tumblr.com/)


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